This Josephine was slipping into the nether depths, no help for her. Auntie Helen had her Jehovah, together with the cats. Not the case for Freethinker Jo (when with all the Easter material—all the crosses, Notre Dame and citations—one had assumed otherwise). No end to the Whatsapp mssgs. Relentless. Unforgiving. This in the mild form was the reason people fled the app/why it was such a comforter for the utterly bereft. Even with her charges over on her patch under Blocks 3 & 4, Jo was less than dedicated, according to JW Helen; kept a very lax regime, expecting others to pick up the slack. Sweet dear. When Mu was shown her pic on the app with the pigtails in the checkered dress—Mu who had been inducted into love by some naughty nenes/grannies—man immediately suggested this was just the sort for a spot of sport. 10-15 years before Jo might have traveled the passages of amore. Now, nada. Frequent traveller (calling on others to assume her responsibilities when absent); living with her old bachelor bro on inherited money. Evenings were spent at a gathering on the Void beneath Block 8, low stools around the iron bench. Mango tarts, lemon rind, pineapple, chocolate truffle most recently, cut fruit and nuts for variation; at first dropped through the window left open for airing and subsequently hung from the bedroom door. All with the Hello Kitty stationery notes stapled. There would be hell to pay if Helen caught her snooping. Jo had pleaded none of her goodies be shared with Helen.
Australian writer of Montenegrin descent en route to a polyglot European port at the head of the Adriatic mid-2011 shipwrecks instead on the SE Asian Equator. 12, 36, 48…80, 90++ months passage out awaited. Scribble all the while. By some process stranger than fiction, a role as an interpreter of Islam develops; Buddhism & even Hinduism. (Long story.)
Wednesday, April 24, 2019
No Help For Her
This Josephine was slipping into the nether depths, no help for her. Auntie Helen had her Jehovah, together with the cats. Not the case for Freethinker Jo (when with all the Easter material—all the crosses, Notre Dame and citations—one had assumed otherwise). No end to the Whatsapp mssgs. Relentless. Unforgiving. This in the mild form was the reason people fled the app/why it was such a comforter for the utterly bereft. Even with her charges over on her patch under Blocks 3 & 4, Jo was less than dedicated, according to JW Helen; kept a very lax regime, expecting others to pick up the slack. Sweet dear. When Mu was shown her pic on the app with the pigtails in the checkered dress—Mu who had been inducted into love by some naughty nenes/grannies—man immediately suggested this was just the sort for a spot of sport. 10-15 years before Jo might have traveled the passages of amore. Now, nada. Frequent traveller (calling on others to assume her responsibilities when absent); living with her old bachelor bro on inherited money. Evenings were spent at a gathering on the Void beneath Block 8, low stools around the iron bench. Mango tarts, lemon rind, pineapple, chocolate truffle most recently, cut fruit and nuts for variation; at first dropped through the window left open for airing and subsequently hung from the bedroom door. All with the Hello Kitty stationery notes stapled. There would be hell to pay if Helen caught her snooping. Jo had pleaded none of her goodies be shared with Helen.
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